Late Winter Sniffles
by konARTISTE
Summary: AoMi. Aoshi has caught a cold, but it is bothering Misao more than himself. Because he is bothered about something or rather, someone else.
1. Sniff

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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'Misao-chan!'

'I'm coming, I'm coming!'

A young woman dressed in a light pink kimono hurried into the Aoiya's kitchen. Her long braid swished against her hips as she made her way to Omasu.

'Hai!'

'What time is it?' Omasu gazed at her hintfully.

Not catching on the the hint, Misao peered at the clock. 'It's - Kami-sama! Aoshi-sama's tea!'

Haphazardly, Misao gathered all the requirements for the tea and left for the temple, whistling. The snow crackled under her geta and the cold had somehow managed to creep through her kimono, but it could not spoil her cheerful mood.  
The end of winter was near, but the snow did not budge. Luckily, Misao did not mind the snow. It reminded her of Aoshi's skin. It was pale and flawless. She had had many dreams in which she would touch his skin and marvel at its coolness and softness. A small blush rose to her already pink cheeks and she climbed the stairs smiling, yet carefully.  
When she reached at her destination, she quietly took off her geta and sneaked towards the meditating man. Just when she was about to call out for him, a soft sound stopped her.

Sniff.

Sniff?, she thought, bemused. She shook her head, writing the sound off to something that was outside.

Sniff.

There it was again!

Misao peered around the temple, in search for something that sniffed, but she only saw Aoshi and herself.

How odd...

Sniff sniff.

The young woman decided to ignore the sniffing. 'Aoshi-sama! I've brought your tea!'  
She kneeled down and prepared his tea, without glancing up at him.  
'It is freezing outside, Aoshi-sama,' she said, 'I have to wear this uncomfortable kimono, or else I am sure I will catch a cold.' She laughed. 'Okina would be very unhappy. He would say that I would scare away all the male customers with my red, snotty nose. As if all those men come to see me serve! Anyway, I am happy I haven't caught a cold! How disgusting would a reddened nose be! All swollen up and all-'

Sniff.

She froze. The sniffing was coming from very near her. A horrible thought bubbled up to the surface of her mind. Slowly, she raised her head and stared at her beloved Aoshi.

His face was rather flushed and his perfectly straight nose was red and slightly swollen, contrasting his usual snow-white skin. Misao gasped in shock. Aoshi had caught a cold.

'A-aoshi-sama!' She uttered. 'Your perfectly white skin... your nose...'

He glared at her.

'Gomen ne! I didn't mean about the red and snotty nose!' Said Misao quickly. 'Your nose is still-'

'Misao.'

'H-hai, Aoshi-sama?' She gave him his cup of tea.

He gazed at her before asking: 'my perfectly white skin?'

The young woman blushed and stood up quickly. 'I will get Aoshi-sama some chicken soup!' When she turned to leave, she heard something.

'Ha...'

'Is something wrong, Aoshi-sama?'

'Ha...'

'Ha?' She echoed, confused.

'Hatchoo!' Sneezed Aoshi softly.

Misao could not help but to giggle. Aoshi seemed so weird, sneezing.

'Misao.' He said in a low gruff voice.

'Hai?'

'Soup.'

'Coming!'

* * *

the end.  
so what do you think? do you want a sequel? 


	2. In every sense

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the soup! Thank you for reviewing and don't forget to do it again after you have (hopefully) enjoyed this chapter - de gozaru!**

* * *

'Misao.' He said in a low gruff voice. 

'Hai?'

'Soup.'

'Coming!'

* * *

Misao pushed Shiro away from the stove. 'Will you move over? Aoshi-sama needs soup!' She shrilly exclaimed and began ladling some soup in a bowl.  
The tall ninja raised his eyebrows at his Okashira. 'He needs soup, Mis- er.. Okashira?' 

'O, just call me Misao-chan!' Huffed the 20 year-old Okashira as she expertly balanced the tray with soup in one hand and grabbed some chopsticks with the other. 'Okina! Get me two, no - three dozens of napkins or handkerchiefs and er... two cloaks. Quickly.'

The old man looked at her with a surprised face. 'Misao-chan! Aren't you supposed to attend our customers? One of them might want to be your suitor!'

'Don't get started with me again, old man!' Snapped Misao viciously. 'Get me the things I told you to get me. Those damned suitors can wait. Aoshi-sama needs soup!'

Hello? What or who could be more important than Aoshi-sama...?

'On second thought,' said Okina dryly, 'I don't think there are any men who want to court you.'

She rolled her eyes.'Works for me!' After a glance at the steaming bowl of soup, she scowled at Okina. 'what are you still doing here, old man? Aoshi-sama's soup is getting cold!'

'Maa, maa...' Sighed Okina and returned with the handkerchiefs and cloaks.

'Arigatou!'

Armed with soup and, of course, lots of hot, steaming love, Misao hurried up the stairs.

'Aoshi-sama! I've brought your soup! And some other things!' She strode to him and offered him the soup.

'Thank you, Misao.' With a face like a slab of ice (well, except for the red nose), he accepted the warm meal and began eating.

After a moment of watching the handsome man with the swollen nose eat, she stood up and draped a cloak over his broad shoulders.

'You know, Aoshi-sama,' she began talking, with her usual cheerful features, 'I don't think I have ever seen you like this before.'

He raised his green eyes to her face.

'O, don't get me wrong, Aoshi-sama! I'm just saying, I've never seen you ill before. Usually I am the one getting the colds and stuff, and you had to take care of me... when I was young - I mean. Now I can look after myself, though.' She grinned. 'I've always seen you as a god. Handsome, strong and healthy.'

'I have never been a god.' He tore his eyes away from hers. 'And now I am less than a human.'

The young woman groaned. 'Kami-sama, don't get started again! I've told you a thousand times already. It was not your fault and we forgive you! You mean so much to us all -especially to me. I don't know what I would do... if you weren't around anymore, Aoshi-sama.' She softly said and bit on her lip.

After her confession, silence followed. Aoshi studied her petite figure and saddened face. Then he said: 'I'll be healthy tomorrow.'

Her angelic head snapped up, just in time to see the fleeting hint of a smile. 'That is impossible! It usually takes a week to cure from the cold.' She folded her arms and leaned forward. A few strands of hair hung before her eyes.

'I said I will be healthy tomorrow.'

'Aoshi-sama, you are so stubborn!' Argued Misao. 'How can you cure so quickly?'

'Misao.'

'Hai?'

'Excuse me.'

'For what?'

'I need to clear my nasal airways.'

She cocked her head in confusion. 'Your what?'

'I need to... blow my nose... in the way you prefer saying it.'

'Oh...' She nodded understandingly. 'Daijoubu.' She gazed at him expectantly. 'Well? Aren't you going to... clear your airways?'

He glared at her for the second time that day. 'Turn around.'

'Now why would I do that?' Again, he got her confused. 'Oh... You are ashamed of clearing your airways in front of me.' She turned around. 'You needn't to be ashamed, Aoshi-sama. Consider me your own.'

In every sense.

She heard him blow his nose and giggled again.

'You may turn around now.'

'Thank you, Aoshi-sama.'

'You don't have to call me Aoshi-sama all the time. I'm not a god.'

She gave him a questioning look. 'Yes, you are. To me.'

'Arguing with you is pointless, Misao. I will not participate.'

'See? Only a god would resist arguing with me.' She stated, flicking her long, black braid. 'It takes god-like power to-'

Okina's voice interrupted her. 'Misao-chan! Come down, now. There is a young man who wants to meet you!'

'Oh, no!' Moaned Misao and clutched her head. 'Not another one!'

Aoshi gazed at her for a moment. 'Get me some soup.'

She stared at him. 'I am about to meet another suitor and all you can think of is soup?'

'It is either soup or suitor. You choose.'

She beamed at him. 'Now I understand. I'll get you some soup. Thanks for saving me.'

When she bowed to him, he said: 'I consider you mine.'

Did he just call me his?

She gazed at him, her jaw dropped. He stared back at her, his eyes flickering with possessiveness. It was as if they were regarding her in a new light. A blush spread across her cheeks and her stomach squirmed happily.

'I will... I will get your soup... Aoshi-sama...' She stood up, feeling dizzy.

Misao walked past Okina and the suitor, completely ignoring them.

Did he just call me his? In every sense?

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Probably one more chapter. Please review! 


	3. Soup

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the soup! Thank you for reviewing and don't forget to do it again after you have (hopefully) enjoyed this chapter - de gozaru!**

* * *

She gazed at him, her jaw dropped. He stared back at her, his eyes flickering with possessiveness. It was as if they were regarding her in a new light. A blush spread across her cheeks and her stomach squirmed happily. 

'I will... I will get your soup... Aoshi-sama...' She stood up, feeling dizzy.

Misao walked past Okina and the suitor, completely ignoring them.

Did he just call me his? In every sense?

* * *

With trembling hands, Misao poured some soup in a green bowl. 

Was Aoshi-sama joking?

...

Naah, Aoshi-sama isn't one to joke around. That cold has seriously gone to his head. That's it. I did not see desire or... lust or anything in his eyes, it was the cold that got him. Yep. That's it.

...

I never knew colds could be so ... serious. I thought cold was just a nasty week filled with snotty nose and showering sneezes. ...

As Misao continued to ponder about the effects of the cold, she did not notice that the bowl was already filled.

Okon entered the busy kitchen only to see a bowl overflowing with soup near Misao. 'Misao-chan!'

Her voice shook the Okashira out of her reverie. 'What?'

'Soup!'

'Yes, this is soup... Do you want some?'

'No, look!' Okon pointed at the bowl. 'You can stop pouring now!'

When her eyes fell on the bowl, she gasped. 'Oh, no!' Quickly, she started to clean up.

'Daijoubu, Misao-chan,' Okon took the cleaning rag from the younger woman, 'I'll do it. But do tell me one thing...'

'What?' Asked Misao absently.

'Why are you acting so -' Started Okon, but Makimachi Misao interrupted her.

'It's Aoshi-sama!' Misao wailed dramatically. 'He is so _confusing_!'

'Oh...' For some reason, Okon was not surprised. 'What did he do then?'

In a child-like manner, Misao explained the situation. When she was done talking, she noticed that the other woman was smiling mysteriously.

'What is it, Okon-san?' Asked the black-haired woman rather hestitantly.

Suddenly, Okon grabbed hold of Misao's braid and began undoing it.

'Let go of my hair!' Shrieked the girl and tried to move away.

'Omasu, come here and help me!' Okon called her collegue and Omasu came, hurriedly. Together they undid Misao's hair and neatened her kimono. When Omasu tried to loosen the upper part of Misao's garments, hell broke loose.

Blushing brightly, she tore away from them. 'What the hell are you doing?'

Okon and Omasu shared a look, seeming utterly pleased. She was ready.

'He he he... Misao-chan... Take this soup to your Aoshi-sama.' Okon's eyes gleamed evilly when she pushed the bowl in the hands of the Okashira.

Misao blushed. 'Oi! What's with the possessive pronoun? How come you're saying that he is _my_ Aoshi-sama?'

Okon did not reply. Instead, she and Omasu pushed Misao towards the exit. 'Make sure you keep Aosh-sama warm! Use eveything you have, even yourself!'

The woman with brown hair smiled.

The brightness of Misao's cheeks will definitely last now... Just one thing more...

'Don't forget to come back when you and Aoshi-san have finished!' She called after the girl, who was now reluctantly making her way back to the temple through the snow.

'Finished what?' Replied Misao, not catching on.

'Your beloved Aoshi-san will let you know!'

The blue-eyed ninja halted and stared at them in confusion before saying: 'whatever...'

'Good luck!'

Omasu and Okon happily watched Misao trudge through the snow. 'Go forth as a girl...' Sighed Okon.

'Come back as a woman.' Finished Omasu, and they re-entered the kitchen.

* * *

I should not have said that, thought Aoshi bitterly, what the hell is wrong with me? And why hasn't she come back yet...? 

I've gone crazy. Meditate, Aoshi, meditate.

Aoshi closed his eyes and when he took a deep breath, his nose became stuffed.

'Guh.' Huffed Aoshi, his concentration lost. He blow his nose as quick as possible. Just when he was about to take a deep breath again, he heard the soft clatter of geta.

Misao, he thought. Again, feelings that he did not allow himself to have bubbled up again. Silently he awaited her arrival. When he did not hear anything anymore, he glanced around.

Where is Misao?

He stood up and walked to the entrance. Aoshi looked down the stairs and saw her standing, gazing at a couple strolling in the distance. Her hair was out of its usual braid and her face, as youthful as ever, seemed to be glowing. In her hands was the tray with soup.

'Misao.'

Surprised, the young woman looked up and blushed brightly. 'Aoshi-sama! What are you doing outside?'

His appearance was impressing. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Some locks of his hair hung casually before his mysterious green eyes. Well... His nose was not so impressive, but his looks were simply stunning. Everything was flawless: the high cheekbones, thin lips, sharp jawline and piercing eyes. His behaviour was cool and collected - on the outside. On the inside, it was a chaos.

'Soup.' He softly said, not being able to say anything else.

He watched her climb the stairs, coming closer and closer to him.

How odd it seemed, the more closer she came the more he wanted to go further away from her.

Yet resistance had become futile for him. He had struggled hard for the past four years, spent hours and hours of meditation and fasting in solitude. But it was fruitless. The desire in him roared up every time when he sensed her. It was becoming stronger and more reckless than it had ever been. It was taking over his calm demeanor, overthrowing his self-control.

His desire once again stirred inside his body, causing his heart to thump faster, his hands to tremble, his vision to become clouded, causing shivers down his spine and each hair on his body to stand on its end.

A day would come that the rational mind of Aoshi would be defeated by the desire for Misao.

The young woman gazed up at him and smiled. Only for him.

That faithful day has come, decided Aoshi defeatedly, yet feeling glad in a way.

It began to snow softly. Some of the flecks of frozen water made themselves comfortable on Misao's long, wavy tresses. Others came rest on her clothes and skin. A few got the privilege to die on her reddened lips, forming tiny drops of water.

'Aoshi-sama...' Her lips formed words, words that barely reached his ears. His senses were in overdrive, focusing only on how she beautiful and womanly she had become.

'Aoshi-sama, what are you doing outside? It's bad enough you have got a cold. We don't need it to become worse!' Misao eyed him quasi-angrily. 'Let's go inside, before the soup freezes over and I will have to go back again to heat it up.'

She quickly kicked the geta off and trudged inside. 'Brrr... It's chilly in here.'

Aoshi followed her, as if in a trance and closed the shoji door behind him, to keep as much cold drafts outside as he possibly could. Then he took seat on the tatami, his eyes still not wavering off of her figure, when she sank down opposite him.

Misao removed the lid from the soup and pouted. 'It has turned cold!'

When she was about to stand up again, he grabbed her hand. 'Don't, Misao.'

She blinked her large ocean-blue eyes. 'Aoshi-sama, you need soup, to stay warm.'

He shook his head slightly. 'Soup is not what I need to stay warm... Misao.'

'Oh.' Was all she could utter. He was still holding her hand.

Shyly, she sat down again and did not glance up at him. 'Do you need me to get anything, Aoshi-sama?'

He took a deep breath. 'Yes.'

Looking up at him expectantly, she waited for his answer. 'What, then, Aoshi-sama?'

'I need you...' He tightened the grip on her hand and pulled her a bit closer to him, causing her to blush, 'to drop the sama from my name.'

This was getting really awkward for Misao. 'But... If I cannot call you Aoshi-sama, then what else should I call you?'

Again, he pulled her somewhat closer, his warm hand still wrapped around her small one. 'That is up to you to decide.'

'But- Ha...' Misao rested a hand before her dainty little nose. 'What I was saying, I - Ha... haa...' Again she tried to continue. But it was too late.

She sneezed fully into Aoshi's face, spraying his handsome face with consumption.

'Gomen ne, Aoshi-sama!' Exclaimed Misao ashamed. 'I'll clean your face immediately.'

She took a handkerchief from the small stack she had brought a while ago and bent over to Aoshi's face. Gently she started to dry his face, all the while stammering apologies. 'I'm SO sorry, Aoshi-sama! It's just getting so freaking cold - and I thought I could hold back the sneeze, but I couldn't and I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!'

Aoshi was not really listening to her ramblings. He instead was admiring the way her long hair fell past her face and how her kimono opened just enough to show some cleavage. Her face was a soft pink and her large eyes were shimmering in the weak light that came through the shoji.

'- I should have moved away, gomen nasai, Aoshi-sama! I'm really, really... A-Aoshi-sama?'

He had pulled her in his lap and wrapped his arms around her small being.

She gazed up at his, surprisingly, still stoic face, a dark blush spreading on her face. 'Aoshi-sama?'

Finally, he met her gaze. 'Misao... how many times do I have to tell you not to call me like that anymore?' His eyes seemed to be full of mirth.

'Uhm... Aoshi? Uhm... what is this?' She asked, resting her head against his chest and shyly played with the border of his sleeve.

'This is an economical way to keep us both warm.' He calmly stated. 'If you do not, however, find this acceptable -'

'No, no!' Misao quickly said. 'I like it like this. It's... nice and warm... And what I have wanted for a very long time.' She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in muscled chest.

Aoshi let his hands stroke her kimono-clad legs. 'Misao-mine.'

'Hmm?' She peered up at him, curiously.

His desire was finally getting something, but was not yet content.

'How about a kiss?' He asked, an eyebrow raised.

A smile bloomed on her face. 'If that is what you need, Aoshi...'

As he brought her even more closer to himself before commencing something mind-consuming, he huskily said: 'the only thing I need is you.'

* * *

Sniff.

Sniff.

'Misao.' Sighed Aoshi as he glanced at her lovingly.His cold was over and his nose was as perfect ever.

'What?' She responded irritably as she poured some tea for herself and Aoshi. 'No way am I going to kiss you again, Aoshi!' She sternly said. 'Thanks to you, I've caught the cold!'

Feeling slightly dejected, he remained silent, while Misao blew her reddened nose.

OWARI

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**A/n: This chapter was quite... longer than the other chapters. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. Next up from me is a Rurouni Kenshin/ Shakespeare fic! Please review and let poor little me know how you liked LWS. sniff I've caught the cold too, y'know. :(**


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